Chapter 10 - A Crown Rewritten
Valente didn't leave. Instead, he slid off the edge of the bed and dropped down onto both knees beside her mattress.
The Alpha King—the ruler of forty thousand wolves, a man who bowed to no living soul—knelt humbly at her side.
"I was a fool, Vivien," Valente said, his voice breaking with raw, uncensored emotion. "I thought being a King meant sacrificing my own soul to keep people safe. I thought I was protecting you by sending you away with money, keeping you distant from the dirty games of politics. But all I did was act like a coward."
He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a heavy parchment document sealed with the royal crest. He laid it on the bed beside her.
"What is this?" Vivien asked.
"It is my abdication decree," Valente said calmly. "And the official rewrite of the Belmont Pack Constitution."
Vivien’s eyes widened. "Abdication?"
"I have officially abolished the law requiring noble bloodlines for royal marriage," Valente explained, looking up at her with clear, unwavering devotion. "And I have declared that the crown will no longer force political unions upon its rulers. If the pack council refuses to accept this, I step down today. My brother can take the throne."
He reached out, taking her hand again, pressing his lips gently against her palm.
"I don't care about the crown, Vivien. I don't care about borders, treaties, or politics. My wolf knew it the second he smelled you that night, and my human heart knows it now. You are my mate. You are my true Luna. And I will spend every remaining day of my life earning back the trust I broke."
Vivien looked at the powerful man kneeling before her, seeing the raw truth in his eyes, feeling the faint, gentle flutter of their baby responding to its father's proximity.
The pain of the past was real, but so was the deep, unshakeable bond they shared—a bond forged not by duty, but by choice.
"You're an idiot, Valente Belmont," Vivien whispered, tears filling her eyes, though a small, radiant smile broke through her pale lips.
"I know," Valente chuckled softly, leaning up to gently press his lips against her forehead, then down to her cheek, stopping just millimeters from her mouth. "Will you stay? Not as a guest. Not in secret. But as my Queen?"
Vivien reached up, her fingers sliding into his dark hair, pulling him down into a deep, lingering kiss that tasted of rain, victory, and fresh beginnings.
"Yes," she whispered against his lips. "I'll stay."
Six months later, under the golden rays of a clear summer sky, the Belmont Estate hosted the largest coronation in a century.
May you like
Vivien stood at the edge of the high balcony, wearing a gown of woven silver and gold that showcased her full, beautiful pregnant belly. Beside her stood Valente, his hand resting proudly over hers on her bump, his black wolf resting peacefully at their feet in the psychic shadow.
Below them, tens of thousands of wolves cheered, their howls echoing across the mountains in unison—celebrating not just a new Queen, but an era built on love, strength, and a promise that would never be broken again.
